Interview with Dog
A late night, gentlemanly talk show set. A jazz guitarist strums the last chord of the post-break tune, striking a pose and projecting his jawline towards the camera as it passes over him, panning over to the main stage.
ManMan sits in a large egg shaped leather chair, wearing a suit and a large pair of glasses with tinted, circular lenses. Across from him sits Dog, in an identical chair. A small table with a pair of narrow cylindrical water glasses separates them. ManMan smiles for the camera as he introduces this next segment of show.
ManMan: And we're back. I'm ManMan, and you're watching ManTalk.
ManMan cordially turns to face his guest.
ManMan: Once again Dog, it's a pleasure to have you on our show.
Dog is a generic, medium-sized mutt but with a distinctly academic air about him. He sits like a human in his chair, torso bent in an L shape, and his hind feet and tail poking out comically from the chair. His front legs are arranged in a flamboyant, bon-vivant gesture, where one flips over their loose hand while the other arm supports the flipping arm.
Dog: Thank you.
Pan over to frame ManMan. Eyebrows raised, head tilted, a high pitched voice, clearly excited to get the interview underway
ManMan: In your latest book you give a rare portrait of Calvin Coolidge that I doubt many of our listeners today would recognize...
Pan over to frame Dog
Dog: Ah, why thank you. And well yes, I would have to agree, the public's knowledge of Coolidge's past exploits as a --
Hard cut to ManMan. Eyes closed tightly, hands raised as if conducting a symphony of poorly behaved bees, dismissing the current line of conversation entirely
ManMan: Ah yes Dog, quite, quite. However before we get into all that, Dog,
ManMan makes eye contact with Dog, a wry smile spills across his mouth.
ManMan: I feel I must ask you something that is surely on the minds of everyone here tonight...
ManMan pauses to carefully consider his delivery of the question. His head cocks to the right slightly, up and away from the camera, a brow furrowed as if he is considering the answer himself as he asks
ManMan: ...what is it like, then, being able to lick one's own testicles?
Hard cut to closeup of Dog. Even beneath his fur, it is clear the blood has drained from his face, a portrait of thunderstruck confusion. Mouth slowly opening from a slackened jaw.
Hard cut to closeup of ManMan's intently concentrated face; thumbs tucked beneath the chin, pointer fingers meeting beneath the nose to form a triangle. Awaiting Dog's wisdom.
Cut to studio's large audience of assorted men, enraptured by the Dog's coming response. Smoking pipes cocked tight in mouths, furrowed brows, armrests firmly grasped. Everyone leans forward to hear.
Brief cut to closeup of woman in the second row, off to the side, intently focused on the stage.
Far away shot of the set, showing the camera and lighting setup. A boom operator stands to the right. ManMan and Dog are small figures at the center of all this attnention. Dog is still confused. His voice is small now in the void of expectation around him
Dog: But you asked me this last time